When I was 12 or 13, I was the perfect example of a pampered, girly-girl in San Francisco. I wore only dresses and would never go out without combing my hair. Never would I get dirty or soil my clothing. I loved playing dolls and serving play tea to my friends. Never would my parents allow me to participate in physical sports.
It was during a trip to visit my mother's parents and family back in Kansas that things began to change. There were children from many branches of our family, most living in rural and country environments. The boys my age were riding their own horses and even shooting guns! We could not have been any more different if I had stepped on another planet.
After lunch one day there were at least 20 adults and that many children ages from 5 to 15 and the lids were told to go out "and play". I was 13 and preferred to remain in the house, but the adults ran out all of the kids. Yes, I was the only girl to wear a dress. Everyone else was in jeans or shorts. We all went out in the back field and the boys of various ages started teasing "the City Girl" which of course was me.
Two had a lasso and were chasing me like I was a calf to be roped. They could run a lot faster than me and it only took them a few minutes to have a rope around me. Several boys pulled me to a large willow tree and tied me, standing up, to the tree. They put a smaller rope around my wrists and ran it over a tall limb. The bigger rope tied my body and legs to the main tree and I was hanging by my stretched arms above my head.
Everyone was laughing except me; even the girls thought it was funny. I struggled to get free and felt so helpless I cried and begged to be set free. One of the boys took out a couple handkerchiefs and put one over my eyes blindfolding me. The other was put across my mouth, effectively gagging me.
They never did anything to hurt me, but the emotional feeling I was having was something I had never experienced. I felt so helpless and fantasized I was a slave being taken to be sold. I had fantasized fear that I would be abused or harmed. For the first time I felt moisture running down my inner thighs and my small, beginning to develop breasts became firm with erect nipples. It was later that I understood what had happened to me. I had become sexually aroused.
A few years later while wandering through an old book store I encountered "The Story of O". The titled caught my eye and as I read the first chapter I became aroused and immediately purchased it. I took the public bus home reading the covered book and thought of myself as "O" and felt an orgasm building within me right there in the public. As soon as I got home I closed myself in my room and read the entire book while masturbating again and again. It was then that I first began to understand my craving to be a sub and my need for a strong Master to train and control me.
Throughout my high school I never met anyone that I could relate to, being afraid to expose myself and my deeply hidden dark desires. At least once a week I would find a private place and take at least an hour reading BDSM literature, physically satisfying myself with masturbation. It was not until my first year in college when I was just celebrating my 19th birthday at my best friend Sharon's house, when I met a man that found the right buttons to press for me. It was a Friday night and I did not know half of those attending Sharon's party.
Most of the young men were shy and hesitant to talk to me or to ask me to dance. After meeting a few of these timid guys, I went to the bar and had Sharon fix me a "special". I took it to the corner and sat down, sipping it slowly. When I was about finished I already had a strong buzz on from the strong drink. That was when a tall man approached me, stuck out his hand and said, "Dance with me." He was six feet tall and approximately 190 pounds. The first thing I noticed was his piercing, dark eyes. I would estimate he was ten years older than my 19. There was no shyness or even courtesy, he was ordering me to dance with him.
He said nothing as he pulled me tightly against his body. In our silence, he held me against him and stroked my back and slid his hands down onto my butt. I started to pull away when he said, "Hold me bitch. Don't pull away!" I was shocked to be talked to in this manner, however, it lit fires within me, reminding me of the many sub/Dom stories I had read and the hundreds of fantasies I had climaxed too while reading. I put my hands around his neck and moved my now fully developed breasts against his chest.
We danced to several slow songs with him caressing me and yet saying nothing. As the music stopped he dropped his hands to his sides and took a short stop back, still without speaking. I began shaking as his gaze focused directly upon my breasts. He spoke softly asking, "Are these real?" I nodded yes and with both hands he firmly grasped both of my tits. I couldn't raise my hands and just allowed his public abuse of my body. He momentarily caressed them both and said, "Nice." I could feel my nipples rising and becoming visible through my thin bra and silk blouse.
Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a business card. He informed me that his private number was on the back and I was to call him at exactly 10 AM tomorrow (Saturday) and that I was to keep my schedule free for tomorrow evening. The stranger never introduced himself or asked me anything. I was TOLD what to do. He then abruptly turned and walked away. I was stunned. Yet, I was standing by myself, my nipples poking out for everyone to see and I could feel a slow syrupy wetness flowing down my inner thighs. I can't ever remember be so sexually aroused.
